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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23928508">a heart so full</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>An absolute disaster, Ciri is v pleased to have a sibling, Kidfic, M/M, Post 1x06, Post Mpreg, Single Parent Geralt, jaskier is trying very hard, no beta we die like renfri, single parent jaskier, who told these idiots they could procreate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:46:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23928508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a little over six years since Jaskier last saw Geralt of Rivia, just under a year since the war ended, and if given the choice, a million more before he’d like to see the man again. </p><p>Fate works in mysterious ways though, and Jaskier supposes he should’ve known he couldn’t keep their daughter hidden forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon &amp; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Triss Merigold, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>370</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’m a slut for Jaskier being friends with Triss and Yen so expect a lot of that in this fic, also just for backstory this is set in a world where Jaskier and Geralt were sleeping together before the mountain. Also I’m twisting the timeline to work for me fight me if you don’t like it :)<br/>This will be around 8 chapters long at most x</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier picks up his pace as he gathers his things together following a truly </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>inspired</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">performance, if he may say so himself. Wine, bread, coin, all shoved unceremoniously into his bag, His eyes dart out the window again and he winces, slinging his lute over his shoulder as he waves goodbye to Maggie behind the bar. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Mag!” He calls to her as he moves for the door in a rush. He hears the rough timber of her laugh over the mumbling and murmuring of the patrons following his speedy exit and groans. Old hag seems to find his struggles amusing beyond belief. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It only takes him a few minutes to get home, a small but humble little house, better than the camp he’d set up every night back when he was saving for it. As soon as he bursts through the front door, Abitha stands from the table and glowers at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, yes I know, I’m late, and I’m very sorry, </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>truly</em>, </span>
  <span class="s1">but I do appreciate you ever so much,” Jaskier tries, though Abitha just rolls her eyes and holds a hand out. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Extra tonight,Sir.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, of course, you’re a godsend, an angel, all the nice words.” He rambles, smiling brightly at her, watching as the annoyance seems to ebb away the slightest bit at that, taking the coin he offers and then gesturing towards the bedroom. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s been alright tonight. Cried a bit when you weren’t home before bed, though.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier’s heart sinks, and then proceeds to twist itself painfully. “You know I wanted to be here,” He says softly, sadly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Abitha’s harsh features soften for a moment, for once actually looking like the sixteen year old girl that she is, “I know, sir. I tried to tell her.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She didn’t believe you?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Abitha sighs, “I couldn’t tell you for sure.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows and chews his lip, “Right then. I’ll see to her. Have a good night, Abby. Get home safely now.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Abitha frowns. “Will you sing tomorrow, too?” She asks, and he thinks he can detect the slightest bit of judgement in her tone, and yes, he can admit that playing for the last week solid was a bit much, but he’s saving for something special for his daughter’ssixth nameday next week, he just...he wants it to be perfect.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, not tomorrow. I think she needs me more than we need the extra coin.” Jaskier admits, and Abitha nods approvingly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Very good, then.” She says, as she heads for the door. “Goodnight, sir.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waves her off and rubs at his face wearily. He can’t help but think he’s screwing this up, that if Geralt had been around for this, he’d be furious with him. But Geralt isn’t around, and never would’ve wanted to be. Gods, he just wants to be a good father to his baby girl. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wonders if Geralt ever went back for his child surprise, then. If he did, was he as overwhelmed as Jaskier is? Did he struggle? </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Never mind.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a heavy heart; Jaskier opens the door to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as he takes in the sight, platinum blonde hair spilled across one of the pillows, so much of it that it almost covers her entire face, eyes closed, cheeks puffed, mouth wide open. The lightest of snoring fills the room, and Jaskier smiles.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Warmth fills him as he moves forward, changing into a pair of loose breeches and discarding his doublet as he crawls in beside her, wrapping his arms around her sleepily. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, Es.” He whispers, even though she can’t hear it. The guilt weighs on him, the guilt of not being enough, of not being able to give her everything she could want, of not being as good at this as a woman would have been. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He drifts off moments later.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He is woken by a foot to the stomach. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A grunt is forced out of him and he opens his eyes right as little Essi starts to climb onto his hip, hands on each of his cheeks to move his face to look at her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier snorts, despite the pain, as he finds eyes that are a mirror of his own looking down at him, wide in excitement. Her hair swings around her face, gravity making the strands brush against Jaskier’s nose, and he fights a sneeze. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy! Daddy, can we have breakfast at the tavern today?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her little voice is husky, melodic, and she asks with so much hope that Jaskier thinks it would break his heart to refuse.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, my little dove, of course we can! But first you must sing me a song!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi giggles, her nose wrinkling. “Daddy you smell really bad, I’ll sing a song after you have a bath!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier sniffs himself curiously and then grimaces, “It seems you’re onto something, my darling. Alright, a bath then, and you can sing to me after breakfast.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Breakfast at Maggie’s tavern is always a lot like what Jaskier imagines breakfast with one’s mother, should they be on good terms, must be like. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maggie frets over and overfeeds little Essi, plying her with kind words and acting every bit the loving grandmother, even as she gives Jaskier’s hand a slap when it drifts too close to one of the </span>
  <span class="s2">several </span>
  <span class="s1">cookies she’s offering his daughter. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh come now, Mag, I’m a growing boy too,” He teases, trying out his best puppy eyes on her, and she snorts but relents, sliding the cookie over to him. He’s certain it’s only because Essi has stopped eating and started leaning against the bench as though she might close her eyes and take a nap. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sweet thing she is,” Maggie huffs fondly, turning eyes on Jaskier again, “What’ve ya got planned today? She can visit Ian’s horses again if she’d like.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi seems to jolt back into alertness at those words and starts bouncing in her seat- and considering how much she just ate, Jaskier is a little bit concerned about just how much she’s jostling her full belly. “Oh, yes yes yes! Please, Daddy, can I?” She asks excitedly, “I’ll be really good! I promise! I won’t try to feed them leaves this time!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier grins into his mug. He meets Maggie’s eyes over the rim, and they share an amused look. “I think we could arrange that, dove. Is Ian up yet, Mag?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maggie sighs long sufferingly, “Aye. Only just, though, lazy bastard.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier chokes on his laugh and Essi frowns at Maggie. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not a’pposed to say words like that, Auntie Mag.” She says very seriously, while pointing a finger. It’s a very cute imitation of Jaskier’s stern face, though the original is almost as cute as well, <em>thank you</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Auntie Mag has said a very bad word, hasn’t she, Es? It’s a good thing you’re here to save the day.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have saved your day.” She tells Maggie proudly, taking Jaskier’s words a touch too literally, and then slides off her seat. “Horses now?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, my darling. Horses now.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maggie rolls her eyes. “That child has you on a leash,bard.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, one of us has to be responsible,” Jaskier cheeks, grinning as he follows Essi out, ignoring Maggie’s scoff. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They spend the morning enjoying each other’s company, Ian allowing Essi to sit on a young mare for a little, the old man always eager to see the two of them. It isn’t until they’re walking back to their house for lunch, Essi’s tiny hand wrapped in Jaskier’s, that Jaskier spots a familiar face approaching from his own doorstep, a wide smile on feminine features and the slightest bounce to her step. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Auntie Triss!” Essi squeals, barrelling across the cobbled stone to throw herself into outstretched arms, practically climbing Triss like a small tree. Jaskier raises his arms in a ‘what can you do?’ type of gesture, and smiles softly at his friend. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s good to see you again,” He says honestly, and leans around Essi to plant an obnoxious kiss on Triss’s cheek, one he knows she can’t wipe without dropping Essi. Triss rolls her eyes at him and raises her shoulder to awkwardly rub at it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why is it that you’re never home when I visit?” Triss raises an eyebrow, “Are you precognitive now? Trying to escape me?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier snorts. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s precog-pre-...” Essi’s brows furrow in concentration, “Preconive?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Precognitive means you can see the future, darling.” Triss explains airily, “though if that were so I think your father would’ve tidied the house a little bit.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier gapes at her, indignant. “Is that any way to treat your very best friend in the whole world?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss’s grin widens, “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">see </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">Yennefer here, but-“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier smacks her shoulder. “Rude! And nasty, mean spirited, I shan’t ever forgive you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You will once you see what I’ve brought for our little flower’s birthday,” Triss nods towards the house, and her face smooths out for a moment, a hint of weariness taking place. “We’ve also got something to discuss, Jask.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows. Of course, she usually only arrives one or two days early for Essi’s birthday, never a full week. Of course there’s something else going on. </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>Of course</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right well, let’s head in. I’ll make us all some lunch.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss takes Essi over to the table, rickety thing that it is, and picks up the wheat stuffed dolls from the floor on her way. “Shall we play princesses?” She asks his daughter in a stage whisper, and Essi beams. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, you can be the princess, and I’ll be the dashing knight who saves you!” Essi’s eyes are bright but her face is set with familiar determination, jaw tight as though she really is going into battle. It’s strange, this juxtaposition of Jaskier and Geralt, the theatrics mixed with Geralt’s own expressions. It’s almost painful, sometimes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier turns away, gathering the bread, nuts and cheese onto a plate and bringing it to the centre of the table, within reach for all three of them. The table shifts with the movement, and Triss looks up at him with an expression Jaskier knows too well.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” He says preemptively. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just a table, I can get you a much nicer one-“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told you, Triss. I want to do this on my own.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss sighs and nods, ripping a piece of bread and passing it to Essi in her lap. There are, after all, only two seats at the table. Essi places her doll down to take the food happily, munching away as she daydreams. She’s so like him, Jaskier thinks, when he isn’t thinking about how like Geralt she is. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m staying until her birthday,” Triss says, as if Jaskier wasn’t already sure of that, “But I’m here now because they’ve finally hired a Witcher to handle the nightwraith in the fields.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier flinches at the reminder. Poor Katherine, so young. He’s certain the creature is whats left of her. “That’s good news, it’d be nice for her to be able to move on.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Most people would be glad she won’t be able to kill again.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier sighs. “Yes, well, if you’re foolish enough to go out there knowing she’s there too, it’s natural selection.”Besides, Jaskier is fairly certain the boy she killed was the boy who killed her in the first place, and that’s divine karma if nothing else.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss snorts. “That’s true. But Jaskier, the Witcher they’ve hired is Geralt.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier feels a full body flinch, and his daughter snaps out of her daydreaming immediately to reach across the table for him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy, what’s wrong? Auntie Triss, help Daddy!” Essi gasps, jerking out of Triss’s arms to round the table and hug him tightly, “it’s okay Daddy, I’m here,” She whispers into his ribs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier tries to focus his breathing as he threads shaking fingers into Essi’s white hair, palm pressing lightly on the back of her head. “Geralt?” He repeats, face devoid of colour, and Triss reaches across the table to take hold of Jaskier’s free hand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For now he’s made camp a half days ride away. He’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, I’d say. Did you want me to portal you and Essi away for a few days, avoid him altogether?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yes, Jaskier would like that very much, but it would confuse Essi and he has a commitment to Mag, and all of this is so very confusing and scary. He meets Triss’s eyes, and chews his lip as he pulls his hand away to grasp Essi and lift her up into his arms properly, and what a reminder of how much she’s growing up the weight of her is.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy?” Essi asks again, worry thick in her young voice, and Jaskier knows. He knows he has to be brave, for her. Show her not to run away when things get hard. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s alright sweetheart, Daddy just had a bit of a shock,” He tells her softly, tucking her hair behind her ears, away from where it had fallen over half of her face. “Everything will be alright. Auntie Triss is going to be staying with us longer than usual this time though, how does that sound?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really really good,” Essi beams brightly, loooking between the two. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss nods at him, seemingly satisfied at his unspoken answer, and chews a piece of cheese. It’ll be difficult, and scary, but he won’t run away this time. He won’t back down, this is his home, and he worked hard to get here. It’s his family, Essi, Mags and Ian, even Triss. No, he’ll stand his ground, and if he’s lucky, he might not even run into Geralt at all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Triss has left for the Inn, and the night has come, he sits against the headboard as he brushes Essi’s hair. He’ll need to start saving to build another room onto the house soon, she’s definitely getting too old to be sharing with him, but coin isn’t as easy to come by when you play in the same town every night. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy?” Essi asks quietly as she passes him the ribbon when he holds his hand out for it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes?” He twists her hair gently, the braid doesn’t need to be tight, but he doesn’t particularly feel like being suffocated by her hair in his sleep, as there is so very much of it it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you upset about the Witcher coming here?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier takes a breath and lets it out slowly through his teeth as he ties off the end of her braid. “The Witcher and I used to know each other,” Jaskier explains after a moment of thought, because he can’t very well just say ‘he’s your other parent’ now, can he? Even at almost six, Essi knows that two men can’t have children together. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were friends?” Essi asks, suddenly eager as she turns on the bed to face him. “Did you have adventures together?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Some, yes.” Jaskier downplays, smiling down at his little girl, all energy and dimples. “But I wouldn’t say we were friends.” There’s a sting in his chest as the words leave his lips, and he looks away for a moment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh. Well, one day I’m going to have adventures too,” Essi says decisively, “I’m going to slay all kinds of beasts and save princesses.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows past the lump in his throat. “Of course you are, dove. Now let’s get to sleep.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jaskier has anxiety, Essi is excited, and Triss is concerned</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier wakes first for once, the anxiety reaching for him even in sleep, his chest tight with it when he opens his eyes. It’s especially frustrating because anxiety is also the reason he struggled to get to sleep at all last night. He has to close them again, take deep breaths for a while, to calm himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi mumbles in her sleep and rolls closer to him, head butting into the crook of his neck almost aggressively. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier snorts and pats her head, considering the day ahead. This afternoon, Geralt will be closer than he’s been in six years and five months. He isn’t sure how to process that, what he would do when - </span>
  <span class="s2">No, </span>
  <span class="s1"><em>if</em> they even saw each other. There’s a chance Geralt will be in and out of town within the day, not a good chance, no, but still a chance. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A chance is a chance, right? </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now he’s even thinking nonsense. Gah. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He really wishes he’d gotten more sleep.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi wakes the same way she always does, with a ridiculous burst of energy and violent tendencies, an elbow to the gut Jaskier’s souvenir for the day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy, since the Witcher is coming today does that mean we can go to the fields tomorrow and make more dolls?” She asks, as if it’s perfectly normal to launch right into conversation seconds after waking. Melitele, this girl. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier groans, still rubbing his sore stomach as he squints at her in disbelief, “If it’s gone by then, I think that’s a perfectly lovely idea.” He relents, knowing well enough that the wheat dolls they made weeks back - before Katherine was killed by a scorned ex lover on the eve of her wedding - were beyond falling apart. He doesn’t want to spoil her name day gift by telling her he’s planning on buying her real dolls, </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s2">fancy </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">dolls. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi beams and pushes herself up from the mattress, hair sticking out of her braid from all different angles. “I’m gonna make so many,” She tells him, cute nose turned up as she speaks to him very seriously, “I’m gonna make a knight, and a princess, and a dragon, and a-“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Essi, dear heart, darling, </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>light</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> of my life,” Jaskier interrupts gently, tugging at her braid to catch her attention as she is very clearly beginning to veer off into her own head and she looks at him with wide eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes daddy?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy is still asleep. You can tell me all about it in say, five minutes?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi’s smile is brilliant, eyes filled with amusement, and Jaskier’s heart twists just a little bit, because that’s a look Geralt has given him a hundred times. Especially whenever he’d said or done something stupid. “You’re not asleep daddy! Your eyes are open! So, I’m gonna make a...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier tries his best to listen to the list that follows, nodding drowsily whenever she looks at him for reassurance, and then her tummy grumbles and he knows it’s definitely time to get up, as much as he’d like to sleep this particular day away. Besides, Triss is definitely up by now and waiting at Maggie’s. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi talks about the adventures her dolls will have as he unties her hair, carefully tugs it together in a simple pony tail to keep it from her face tied with ribbon, locks curled from the braid she slept with. Jaskier finds himself waking more and more as she speaks, can’t help but feel pride in her vast imagination. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s still talking about said adventures when they’re walking through the tavern door, Essi’s hand in his. Triss waves them over to a corner table rather than the bar they usually sit at. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We usually sit - “</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, but Maggie scares me.” Triss admits with a shrug, “that woman could kill with a look.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well that’s not fair, Mag likes you,” Jaskier lies cheerfully, even as Maggie herself glares at their table from where she’s wiping down another with a wet rag. Triss rolls her eyes at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She absolutely does not,” She grumbles, then drops her gaze to Essi. “Well look at you this morning!” She smiles gently, softens the way she always does when she’s looking at his daughter, “I love the curls.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi grins toothily. “Daddy did my hair in a braid before bed and now my hair is really pretty.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your hair is always really pretty,” Jaskier points out, ignoring Triss’s smirk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi leans on him happily right as Maggie places several plates in front of them, ignoring Triss altogether but giving Essi a wink that has her giggling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eat up,” Maggie says, pointedly looking at Jaskier, “You look like you’re ill.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just didn’t sleep well, Mag,” Jaskier smiles, “Nothing that’ll stop me from breaking hearts with my performance tonight, I assure you. I shall be breathtaking as always!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wish someone </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>would</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">take your breath,” Maggie scowls and smacks his head, “Full of hot air, you are.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oi!” He shouts at her retreating back, but it’s a lost cause and he can hear Triss and Essi laughing at him. “Very supportive you two are, I didn’t expect better from </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>you</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">Triss, but my own child? Essi darling, how could you betray me so?” He makes a show of clutching his chest and slumping backwards, and Essi is all too eager to throw her arms around him tightly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry Daddy, you’re just very easy to laugh at.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Oof</em>, the brutality of children. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, well, let’s eat.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re about half way through breakfast, studiously avoiding the elephant in the room, when Nora and her son arrive and instantly, Essi forgets that Jaskier and Triss exist in order to rush to little Skjall’s side. The boy is older than her by a couple of years but he’s kind, and he’s the closest in age to her in the entire village. There’s baby Cora and her two year old brother Kita a few houses down from Jaskier, fourteen year old twins Alexei and Nikolaj on the other side of the village, and seventeen year old Ellen, living with the healer as an apprentice. And of course, Abitha, sixteen years old and the only babysitter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Others pass through, sometimes with children, and Essi will make a new friend that she likely won’t see ever again, and that does hurt Jaskier’s heart a bit, but she’s happy now, which is really all that matters. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You think she has a little crush?” Triss asks conversationally as she watches the tiny blonde excitedly chatter away to the soft spoken brunette boy. Nora meets Jaskier’s eyes and smiles at him, which is all he needs to know she isn’t bothered by Essi joining them for a bit.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh she’s much too young for that.” Jaskier brushes off, as far as he’s concerned she’s never going to have a crush on <em>anybody</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She told everyone she was going to marry that girl last year, what was her name? The one that came with the travelling merchants?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cecilia, I think,” Jaskier smiles at the memory of Essi practicing her first dance in the living room, barefoot and tripping over nearly every obstacle in her path. “But that proves nothing except for a knowledge of wedding ceremonies.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s a miniature you, Jask. She’s going to fall in love with everyone she meets, just a little bit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier sighs and turns tired eyes on Triss. “I’m not in love with you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s because you’re still in much deeper love with someone else.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Triss, don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have to talk about it. What do you want to do when he gets here? Are you going to hide? Because you just told Maggie rather emphatically how excellent your performance will be tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows and his gaze drops to the table as he fights the urge to fiddle with the spoon in his bowl - he’s still trying to get that whole ‘don’t play with your food’ thing across to Essi. If he’s honest with himself, he still hasn’t got a clue what he’s going to do. Logically, the chance of seeing Geralt is fairly high. He’s playing at the tavern - Geralt needs to eat. He knows, or has a fairly good idea what went down between Katherine and Felize - Geralt will be looking for the backstory. The whole town knows him by name, there’s no way Geralt won’t hear it at least once. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know.” Jaskier says finally, without looking up. He hears Triss sigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Will you tell him about Essi?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His face scrunches like he’s sucked a lemon. “Why? So he can reject her? No, no I don’t think I will.” He feels sharply protective, looking to his daughter as though he needs her within his sight to reassure himself. She’s sitting on the same stool as Skjall now, the boy has one arm on her side to prevent her from falling off, and he’s eating his breakfast with the other. Skjall really is a sweetheart. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think you <em>should</em>, but it’s your decision.” Triss relents, frowning. “I think he might surprise you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want to talk about it any longer,” Jaskier frowns right back, feeling his tenuous grip on staying calm slipping. This is far too much for him to deal with in such short notice, it’s like fate is playing a sick joke on him. He probably deserves it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss reaches out and grabs both his hands in hers. “You know that no matter what, I’m with you, right?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier meets her eyes hesitantly, afraid to see a sign of a lie, but instead is met with determination and intensity. “Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good. Now, I think it’s time to take my very best friend in the whole world and my lovely niece for a nice walk. I’ve picked up plenty of new stories for you both.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An expected and yet still unexpected arrival appears, Jaskier‘a insecurities and self doubt are building, and Triss just wants this family to love each other.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The afternoon passes in a blur, Jaskier startling at any flash of white he sees, until Ian takes Pegasus’s reigns from him and asks if he needs to be calmed as well as the horses. It’s humiliating enough for Jaskier to awkwardly fumble over his words in response, until Ian’s hand squeezes his shoulder firmly and hobbles off, his bad leg throwing off his gait. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi doesn’t seem to notice his growing agitation, but Triss keeps eyeing him, expression far too knowing. He feels sick every time they turn a corner, wary every time someone new steps into his field of vision. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re in the tavern again, and night is creeping in, turning the sky from soft pink and sweet orange to a darling plum. It won’t be long now before it’s hard to see outside, so he turns to tell Triss to take Essi home, hands shaking. It’s only a matter of time now, and he’s sending away his anchor, the only thing keeping him steady. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How would you like to stay for Daddy’s first song?” Triss asks Essi softly, watching Jaskier with concern, and Essi grins widely and throws her arms up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes! Daddy never lets me stay!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows and glances outside again. “One song,” He says, pointing his finger at Triss who just rolls her eyes. “Just one.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go on then, stun us with your musical prowess.” Triss teases as Essi’s face scrunches in confusion, white strands falling from her pony tail from the day’s activities. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Consider yourself stunned!” Jaskier can’t help but smile as he takes his lute from his casing and moves to his usual spot. He closes his eyes, takes a calming breath, and then looks back at Triss and Essi. His little girl has her elbow on the table and her chin in her hands, watching him avidly, and gods above, his heart clenches at the sight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He starts up softly, a gentle tune to catch attention without disrupting ongoing conversation just yet, lets it build slowly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has his voice join the strumming and is pleased to note several heads turning his way, but he lets his focus remain on Essi, wanting her to understand. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“</span>
  <span class="s2"><em>At last, at last, bones of my bones and flesh of my flesh, at last</em>,</span>
  <span class="s1">” He crones softly, and he rarely plays this song, it’s too gentle and personal for his usual crowd, but it feels important to sing it now, and if anything, Essi seems to lean a bit closer with each passing word. “</span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>You were the brightest shade of sun I’d ever seen, your skin was gilded with the gold of the richest king</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1">.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stands from his spot, barely registering the sound of the tavern door opening and the tavern occupants drinking and talking, just wanting to be closer to her for a moment, “</span>
  <span class="s2"><em>And like the dawn you woke the world inside of me, you were the brightest shade of sun when I saw you</em>.</span>
  <span class="s1">” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He reaches out to brush her hair from her eyes and then takes a deep breath as he continues the lyrics until there are none left, and Triss is even looking a little emotional, he smiles as it ends, plants a kiss on Essi’s head. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you Daddy,” She whispers softly, as if the moment would be tainted if she spoke too loud, and he hates how emotional he always is because he barely manages to return the sentiment before he’s turning away to begin his next song, awkwardly clearing his throat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maggie and Ian are watching him fondly from the bar, and he reassures them with a smile before heading back towards the centre of the room. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And now something with a little more beat, hmm?” He calls out to cheers from the patrons, and he’s surprised to find his case has already received a few generous donations after the one song - although when he spots the mothers in the room dabbing at their eyes it makes a bit more sense. In any case, he jumps straight into a very spirited rendition of</span>
  <span class="s2"> <em>Secret Tunnel</em></span>
  <span class="s1">, much to the delight of seemingly everybody but Maggie, who rolls her eyes and tosses a rag over her shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next time his eyes drift over to his table, his fingers stutter in place, a harsh twang echoing in the room and leaving a bad taste in his mouth, before he forces a laugh and shrugs, “Ah well, back into it!” He calls, and the patrons roar with laughter and shout their support. He keeps singing, but he can’t help his gaze constantly falling back to the table that should only hold one redhead and one blonde. Instead there are two blondes, one with a scar across their cheek, two swords strapped to their back, and leather boots kicked up on the table. The three are talking amongst themselves and occasionally looking at Jaskier and Triss really should’ve taken Essi to bed by now but fuck if she can’t </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>now</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He manages to get through the rest of his set without too much trouble, but finds his heart racing as he approaches the table. His case is filled with coin, so he can’t put his lute back inside it, instead awkwardly holding it over his stomach as though it’s a shield. He clears his throat when everyone just stares at him blankly when he stops and doesn’t sit. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy, I’ve stayed up so much more than my bedtime! I have so much energy, I’m like a horse! Can we -“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Essi, give your father a moment,” Triss interrupts, and Jaskier thanks the heavens that Triss Merigold is his best friend. Finally, black boots fall down from the table and bright eyes narrow at Jaskier a flash of hurt in them, arms crossed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You stopped visiting me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows and nods, “well, when one is male and pregnant and on the run from nilfgaard -“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ciri frowns, and Melitele, she looks older, hair long and white, twisted into a simple bun on her head, Wild strands escaping to frame her scarred face. She can’t be older than fifteen now, his last visit she’d only been eight. Geralt hadn’t known about his visits, and he didn’t want him to, so it’d been a few times a year, when he had the time. Then Essi happened, and he couldn’t be so reckless anymore. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You couldn’t even tell me I had a sister?” She asks, and she’s changed so much, what once was sweet defiance is bitter hurt, and he really wishes he had been there. He’d planned to, he’d loved her like his own. But feeling that way and having it confirmed by her, that alone makes his heart swell and his eyes prickle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re my </span>
  <span class="s2">Sister?</span>
  <span class="s1">” Essi gasps out, eyes wide and full of wonder as she stares at Ciri, and she must be cataloguing the similarities, their hair both a shock of white, their blue eyes, though Ciri’s are ethereal and Essi’s are a much lighter blue. It’s true, they really could pass for sisters, regardless of biology. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” Ciri says sharply when she sees Jaskier’s mouth open to explain. “We are. It’s just complicated.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi’s face twists into a pout, brows furrowed. “That’s what Daddy says when he just doesn’t want to talk about stuff.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ciri snorts at that, and even that flash of a smile for the first time in so many years is painful. He’d abandoned her, he knows, and sure she’s fine, physically at least, but he has so many questions. The scar for one thing, how did she get it? How is she fighting beasts so young? Is she alone, is Geralt here somewhere? Of course he is, he’d never have left her defenceless, she’s worth having around unlike him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your Daddy is a very silly man,” Ciri whispers to Essi conspiringly, to which Essi nods her head very seriously. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes. The silliest.” The agreement should bum him out, but instead he watches them interact and feels like crying. He’s dreamed of this, dreamed of having his family together, the only thing missing being Geralt. Perhaps even Yennefer, horrifyingly enough. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss reaches out and squeezes his hand. “I told you It’d be okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t tell me Ciri was coming,” He says back, not an accusation, just a defeated statement. Triss shrugs and tugs him until he’s finally sitting beside her, his girls across from him, talking in soft tones. He missed so much of Ciri’s life, she’ll never forgive him he knows, but this moment? He can enjoy this moment, </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t know she was. Geralt brings her to the more difficult hunts, I didn’t think a noonwraith really qualified. Yennefer says he’s growing resltess.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That catches Jaskier’s attention swiftly, and he faces her with furrowed brows. “Is he okay?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss glares at him. “If you were with him you’d know. But yes. Well, maybe. There’s something wrong, Yen thinks. He’s acting strange, always leaving Kaer Morhen for trivial hunts, looking for something.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier’s eyes widen. “Maybe he’s cursed.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ciri’s long suffering sigh is so in sync with Triss’s that it throws him for a loop. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not cursed,” Ciri interrupts, seemingly not minding one bit when Essi climbs into her lap and tugs the piece of worn leather loose from Ciri’s hair, brushing her little fingers through the long strands happily. “He misses you. It’s been too long since he saw his mate, he’s looking for the part of him that’s missing. Just like how I was drawn to this tavern instead of the Inn Geralt asked me to wait at.” </span>
</p><p class="p2">Jaskier’s heart speeds to a thunderous beat at the word ‘mate’ but he tries not to show it. </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Drawn to?” Triss asks, curiosity piqued as she leans forward. “Like a mystical pull?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like a need,” Ciri muses to herself. “The closer I got the more </span>
  <span class="s2">right </span>
  <span class="s1">I felt, I suppose. When I saw Essi I knew I needed to be close to her, and then I saw Jaskier and I understood.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fascinating. Your fate must intermingled with Essi’s somehow. If it was just Jaskier you would have no reason to choose this table.” Triss has obviously gone into studious mode, and Jaskier has no patients for that at all. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes yes, fate, destiny, all those other things we don’t believe in because they’re garbage.” Jaskier grumbles, hoping he doesn’t sound too bitter, even as he watches Essi try to mimic her own plait from the night before on Ciri and failing miserably. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t need to believe in those things to believe in family.” Ciri says hesitant all of a sudden, eyes shining with hurt. “We’re family, Jaskier, aren’t we?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Family.” Essi agrees, as she attempts to tie her spectacularly abhorrent braid at the end with the worn leather. Ciri spares her an unfairly hopeful and fond look. How can Jaskier say no to that?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course you’re my family,” He says finally, sighing. “I...I’m sorry for leaving you, Ciri.” He means much more than that, sweet Melitele, there’s so much he has to apologise for when it comes to this girl, but she just smiles softly, that scar on her cheek warping slightly, and scoops Essi to her side with one arm and reaches for his wrist across the table with the other. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ll make it up to me. You won’t leave again.” It’s not a question but a statement, and he nods, because even the idea of leaving her again after this hurts. Her smile turns genuine, a hint of desperation and relief in it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Essi needs her sister,” He says, instead of ‘I need both my daughters.’ Because at the end of the day, Geralt will be here, and whether Ciri wants to stay or not, Geralt will never allow it. He hated the thought of having Ciri, if he knew he had a </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>blood</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">child out there...well. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve always wanted a sister.” Ciri confides, face vulnerable as she looks down at little Essi. “I’ve been alone for so long. I have so much to give, and I will, I swear I will.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It sounds far too much like Ciri is trying to sell herself to him, as though she fears she’ll not be given what she so desperately wants, and Jaskier softens, looking at the two of them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi has already turned her into a pillow, it is of course, far after her bedtime, and without thinking Ciri has tucked her under her arm, their white hair mingling to the point where he doesn’t know whose hair is whose. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows his pride and any insecurities that are currently plaguing him enough to say a simple, “You have nothing to prove. You’re sisters. My children, blood or not. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just sorry you didn’t get to have her sooner. She’s always wanted a sibling too, but it’s hard when you’re born of a man in extremely strange circumstances.” He chuckles, and then can’t help himself, he stands and rounds the table to wrap his arms around Cirilla, tight. His eyes are burning and he’s sure the tears are coming but Ciri leans into his embrace, tugging Essi along with her to press into his arms. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I really wish I could just save this moment in time and re watch it whenever I’m having a bad day.” Triss breaks the spell by saying, her own eyes none dry but her shaking hands enough of an indication that she isn’t completely unaffected. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hush,” Jaskier grumbles through a hoarse throat. “Now, Ciri, my darling girl, would you like to help us get Essi to bed? Afterwards we can catch up, you can tell me all about your adventures since we last saw of each other.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d really like that,” Ciri nods, and gods, her smile should be reassuring but that world weariness in his eyes reminds him far too much of Geralt. It hasn’t been roses and daises for her, he’s sure about that. “Geralt won’t be back before morning anyway.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a tough squeeze into Jaskier’s tiny cabin, Essi and Triss set up in the bed, which is where he plans on directing Ciri to join them after they’ve spoken, Jaskier happy to take the lumpy couch for the night. It’s worth it to have almost his whole family in the one place. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He feels like if he blinks it’ll all be over, so he keeps his eyes on the girl as she uncovers horror after horror, and by the end, completely by accident, they end up falling asleep on the couch with Ciri wrapped around him like a lifeline. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter we‘ll have the guest of honour, fresh from a hunt and terrified when he doesn’t find Ciri at the end</p><p> </p><p>Love me some angst 🤷🏻♀️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier wakes to the sound of soft voices whispering, and a part of him can’t help but think about how this is the first time he’s woken up </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>content</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">and not just awake. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He keeps his eyes shut though, curious, and feels the corners of his lips quirk when he realises what’s happening. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And this is Mr. Peaches. He sells oranges at the market, and his wife Mrs Pink,” Essi is explaining his dolls to an all too patient Ciri. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why doesn’t he sell peaches?” Ciri asks curiously, her voice just as soft as she shifts closer to Essi. The girl giggles. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t be silly. Just because his name is Mr. Peaches doesn’t mean he has to sell peaches. Just like some bad guys are actually secret good guys. Daddy told me that.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did he now?” He thinks he hears something wistful and appreciative in her tone. “He’s right, you know. People see this scar and think I’m going to hurt them sometimes.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi’s dramatic gasp fills the room and Jaskier fights the urge to laugh. “Blasphemy!” She shouts, and Jaskier muses that every since she learned that word a few days ago, she’s taken every chance to use it. “I think you’re beautiful, and your scar just means that something tried to ruin your beauty and failed.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a silence for a long moment, and Jaskier thinks he hears a sniffle, because Ciri says softly, “You remind me of your father,” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Our father,” Essi corrects, then picks up another of her dolls. “And this is Miss Leaf. She’s made of leaves and she’s not married and she doesn’t want to get married ever.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Smart girl,” Ciri snorts, and Jaskier can imagine Essi’s chest puffing in pride. “Men are more trouble than they’re worth.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a thoughtful pause, and then, “Skjall is going to be a man one day, but I think he’s nice.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier hides his face in the back of the couch to resist reacting. There she goes, in love yet again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy,” Essi says after a moment, “You’re awake, your heartbeat changed.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sighs. The jig is up. He rolls over, facing Essi‘s pleased smile and Ciri’s confused frown. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can hear heartbeats?” Ciri asks, looking apprehensive, and Essi just smiles brightly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I can smell things! You smell worried. Daddy smells happy. He usually smells stressed or worried.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Cirilla stares at her for a long time, and then looks at Jaskier, who winces at the calculating gaze. They usually pretend she can’t do it, just in case anyone ever overhears, in case someone wants to hurt her for it, use her as bait for any Witcher they find, torture her - Melitele, the list goes on. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy, why do you smell scared?” Essi asks, blue eyes wide and concerned, tiny hands framing his cheeks and pressing them together. “Ciri is my sister right? That means I can tell her? Am I in trouble?” She’s spiralling, and he knows that because he does the same thing, so he quickly grabs her wrist before she can start really panicking. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s alright dove, It’s just hard to adjust. We’ve never mentioned this in front of anyone but Triss before. Of course I think Ciri should know.” He aims the last bit at Ciri, who relaxes a bit and then reaches her arms hopefully. Jaskier grins and tugs her into the hug tightly, throwing his arms around both of them. “Oh my darlings, I never thought I’d have this.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ciri just presses her face further into his neck, like she’s trying to bury herself inside him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s a lot more like Geralt than we’d ever thought when she was little,” Triss announces her presence, stretching her arms above her head and rolling her neck as she reaches for the shelves, gathering up a few ingredients that Jaskier </span>
  <span class="s2"><em>knows</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">aren’t still good, and placing them on the rickety table, pressing light into each of them until they look edible, and then conjuring a pot of boiling water and tossing them in. “We’re having soup for breakfast, I heard Ciri sneeze last night.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier smiles at her appreciatively and squeezes her wrist in thanks, she hums in acknowledgment. “She can scent all kinds of things, knows when people are lying, and knows which people to trust. She’s something, alright. Not that it matters since all she wants to do is learn the harp.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier nods at the simplification, and Ciri eyes Essi curiously for a moment before shrugging and smiling at her, much to the child’s relief. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wish you’d give the lute a chance,” Jaskier repeats his usual complaint, and Essi just glares at him with her arms crossed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want the harp. The harp is the right thing. The lute is wrong, Daddy.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier doesn’t bother trying to decipher that, but he also just doesn’t have the money lying around to buy her a harp, so he tries not to hate himself too much for being unable to provide for her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think the harp is really pretty,” Ciri says tentatively, looking between them as if she’s afraid she’s going to annoy Jaskier, but the man just pats her on the head and finally gets up from the sofa. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going to finish some of the poetry we had commisioned, since you’re in good hands.” He presses a kiss to Essi’s forehead, pauses uncertainly before repeating the action to Ciri, and ends with a ridiculously sloppy kiss to Triss’s cheek, knowing how much it irks </span>
  <span class="s1">her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re a pig.” She grumbles as he heads to the writing desk with his quill, scrolling out meaningless lines about love being a be all end all for this teenage douchebag to give his girlfriend. He really hopes Ellen isn’t quite so easily moved. He knows the girl is far more career focused than the kind to simply fall into Nikolaj’s arms and forget her future. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What rhymes with herbalist?” He asks a moment later, without glancing back, and Ciri is quick to respond. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Turbulance?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier winces. Ciri giggles, and Jaskier is tempted to look and see what they’ve gotten up to, but he actually does have to finish commissions in order to get paid. In the end he settles with insurgence, even though it isn’t an exact rhyme. The poem comes out alright, if he does say so himself, and when he looks up it feels like his heart could explode from within his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ciri has taken to threading daffodils that she must have gathered from the ground while he slept into Essi’s hair, white strands twisted into two braids with softly curling strands resting free against the side of her face. New beginnings indeed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier swallows and can’t help himself, he reaches forward and presses his fingers spread against Ciri’s back and presses, heart warm and heavy in his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you, cub.” It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it is since he last he saw her all those years ago. She smiles at him as she ties off the last braid with a cut of ribbon, real ribbon, bright red and shiny new. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you too. Don’t leave me behind again.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nods, because there aren’t words. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ciri said we can maybe play Witchersand mages in the backyard, would that be okay Daddy?” Essi asks hopefully, and Jaskier bites his lip because isnt </span>
  <span class="s2">that </span>
  <span class="s1">a little on the nose. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have the two of you eaten?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They both nod, puppy eyes flashing at him</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he’s a fool. “Go on ahead, just stay safe. Ciri, when...when is Geralt due back?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ciri frowns thoughtfully. “I don’t know, but he’ll scent me if he’s home before me. It’s okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier knows it’s true, but his nod is still shaky as he watches them dash off to play. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He’s forgotten Triss was even there until her</span> hand squeezes his shoulder. “Look how happy they are,” She muses into her battered copper mug. “This could have been your life the whole time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier bristles and jerks away. “Geralt would’ve sooner poisoned the baby.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss softens. “You really believe that?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier stares at his hands, fingers pressed to the table, knuckles white, and he hates everything about this conversation. “He would’ve banished me from his sight, then. He had no trouble doing that before he knew I was pregnant.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss sighs. “I just wish you’d listen when I tell you how much he loves you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t, I cant...I can’t listen to that. Please, Triss.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She kisses his cheek. “I’m gonna call Yen,” She explains, patting his back and heading towards the bedroom, xenovox clutched in one hand. “Call me if you need me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier listens to her footsteps recede and then moves to the back window, opening it up enough to see Essi try to tackle Ciri to the ground and the older girl pretending to go down hard, shouting about Witcher strength being an unfair advantage, before throwing herself forward to knock Essi sideways, careful</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not to actually hurt her. The sound of their laughter is something Jaskier wishes he could imprint upon his brain, tattoo into his skin, pierce into his heart. He’s never felt so whole. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So of course, that’s when the banging on the door jerks him out of it, and hehurries towards the door, knowing full well who it is that’s going to be behind that door and dreading it more than anything. He can feel his heart in his ears, and feels apprehensive with every footstep, but of all the things he’d been expecting upon opening the door, being slammed against the nearest wall by his throat hadn’t been one of them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As he’s gasping for breath, trying to make sense of what’s happening and coming up empty and scared, </span>
  <span class="s2">terrified</span>
  <span class="s1">even, he can’t force himself to even try to speak. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where is she?” The voice is the same, husky and deep but thick with desperation and rage and </span>
  <span class="s2">
    <em>oh</em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1"> he means Ciri. Then, suddenly, there’s a moment of complete silence, before the hand around his throat eases slightly and Geralt stares at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jaskier?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The —“ Jaskier chokes and coughes, teaching up to massage at his bruised throat, “—one and,” He coughes again, “Only.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s something in Geralt’s face then, something that could be guilt, if Jaskier didn’t know how much Geralt hates him, wasn’t well aware of how much Geralt has probably wanted to do exactly that over the years. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...you’re...” Geralt seems to be at a loss for worlds, before his mind seems to clear and he remembers why he came. “I’m looking for my daughter, I don’t know if you remember but she’s my child surprise, Cirilla, and her scent led me here-“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Putting aside the fact that that is most definitely way more Geralt used to say in an hour, let alone one sentence, Jaskier just nods and points to the back door. “Playing.” He manages, with minimal pain, ironically enough just as the back door opens and the two girls stride through laughing, both covered in grass stains and dirty cheeks and bright smiles that fall almost as soon as they take in the sight in front of them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi reacts first, eyes going ice cold the same way Geralt’s sometimes do, chilling Jaskier to the bone as she snarls at Geralt, and Ciri doesn’t even reach out to stop her, looking just as distressed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t. Touch. My. Daddy!” Essi shrieks, and raises a hand at the same time Geralt goes flying backwards and hits the wall. Before he can get up Essi’s gaze has softened and she’s running to Jaskier’s side, Ciri right behind her, shooting Geralt a poisonous look. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” Ciri asks softly, helping him to stand straighter, and looking him over in a show of obvious concern, even as Essi holds tight to his middle in what must be a much needed hug. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine, but how did Essi...?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I taught her the Witcher signs, that was Aard. I can’t use them but I thought since...Uh, you know, that she might be able to.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not a bad idea, Jaskier muses, as he pushes them away as gently as he can and moves towards Geralt, still pulling himself to his feet and looking completely stunned. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry about that, you know how kids are when they start something new, have to try it all the time, but I’m absolutely certain she had no idea she would hurt you and she’s very sorry, isn’t that right Essi?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Essi looks particularly sour but she nods and says, “I’m sorry for hurting you but you shouldn’t hurt my daddy. It was your own fault.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Essi!” Jaskier gapes, but Geralt’s hand falls on his shoulder and Jaskier feels his heart beat double. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have hurt you, Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jaskier stares at him blankly.“You’re supposed to insult me, not apologise.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt winces, looks towards Ciri, and back. “I’m working on it. I just panicked when I couldn’t find Ciri. Forgive me, Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...uh, sure?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt looks unreasonably pleased, and then turns a stern gaze on Ciri</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you know how worried I was?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, sure.” Ciri mutters, and it’s in this moment that Jaskier realises that these two do not have the relationship they should, that Geralt still considers her his ward instead of his child, and that needs to change. Either that, or Ciri is acting like a normal teenager for once. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just for that, you’re staying home for the next hunt too. Maybe even the one after that.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hate you.” Ciri mutters under her breath, and Jaskier’s own heart hurts hearing it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt flinches but stays steady. “You can hate me if it means you’re safe.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And isnt that something Jaskier’s heard from the man a million times before. A tiny hand clasps as Jaskier’s knee and he looks down, Essi looking uncertain and afraid and of course she is, Geralt is terrifying for young children, let alone when he’s arguing, and the poor girl looks like she wants to run away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Daddy, why is the pretty man yelling at my sister?” Of course, of all the genes to keep, she‘s got to have the ones that find Geralt beautiful rather than scary.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Geralt must have somehow heard this though, and now he’s starting intensely at Essi at Jaskier’s knees, and Jaskier wants to cry because this is it, it’s over, the secrets out-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Triss leaves the bedroom and enters the living room pocketing her xenovox without looking up, “Yen says hi, Jask, she said she’ll be here the night before Essi’s birthday and she’s bringing the cake because she doesn’t care if it gives Essi a sugar ru-“ She looks up as she realises there’s complete silence in the room, and then winces. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, Essi, Ciri, do you want to go back to the bedroom and play Gwent for a bit?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both girls nod and practically sprint out of the room like bats out of hell, leaving Triss to smile awkwardly at the two of them.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good luck. If you have a fight please make sure to break the table so I can replace it.” </span>
</p>
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